The Coming
by J.A. Carlton
Summary: Seven months ago Sam was held captive and tortured by Lilith. "You have fathered the murderer of the world." She told him. With his child about to be born Sam must decide whether to let it live, or save the world and slaughter an innocent.
1. Chapter 1

The Coming – Spn fic.

By: sifi.

Disclaimed: Yeah, yeah.

Loved: But of course.

Chpt 1.

OOooOO

Teotihuacan, Mexico. Three months ago.

_Mmm, damn, maybe I shouldn't have drunk the water._ Sam felt the wince run across his face and was glad Kitsune was facing away, and moving toward the astonishing pyramid. In three days they'd gone from Playa Del Carmen and the ruins there, to Tikal, Tiahuanaco, and Puma Puncu, before heading back up to this ancient city. This morning he would have sworn his intestines were trying to burst. But the feeling subsided quickly and he vowed to do his big brother proud and stick with beer or other bottled drinks.

_I can't believe I'm actually here! This is incredible! Thanks Dean. _There was no doubt that he needed the time off, or that he'd been enjoying spending time with his girlfriend, _how does a guy call an ancient Japanese Demi-god a girlfriend? Man, our lives…_ he grinned as she chose a step just over the main entrance and stretched out in the sunshine, lounging with that same gentle and beautiful smile she seemed to hold in reserve just for him. _She's so elegant… regal… how do I rate?_

Sam zoomed in on her, grinning like a tourist without another care in the world and snapped the picture.

He checked the screen on the back of the camera and nodded at her, "Perfect!" then hoped she didn't notice when his smile faltered as another shaft of fire raced through his low belly. _Damnit, mmm that's not good._

OOooOO

Bell Rock, Arizona.

"Hold on Lily, just keep breathing the ambulance will be here soon." Sharon assured, holding her new co-workers hand.

The visibly pregnant woman nodded while tears squeezed out of her eyes, "There's something wrong with my baby." She whimpered wondering what else God would see fit to rip away from her life. He'd already taken huge snatches of time, some of which seemed to swim in the feelings of a waking nightmare. She saw fire dancing on rocky walls, darkness, a snake as tall as a man, and a bloody and shredded man who she could have sworn had been hurt by her own hands. She could almost feel him inside her, and yet the only man she'd ever made love with was her husband. Almost three months ago now he too had been taken by the lord and now she was left carrying a baby she didn't know whether or not would survive to term. "Please God. I moved here for a fresh start… please God don't take my baby too." She nodded as another pain ripped through her low belly.

Inside her, the baby turned and rolled and her viscera pulled. Shredding pains cascaded up and down as if something was trying to claw her open from the inside.

OOooOO

Teotihuacan, Mexico.

Sounds came first, voices in a language he partially recognized. One filtered through above all the rest.

"Sam? Sam wake up." Small warm hands slid over his face, lips touched his, "Wake up Sam."

Colors and light came next as his eyes came open.

"What happened?" he asked as he remembered the sensation, as if a giant white hot scimitar seemed to cut right into him, stopping only at his spine. It hit so hard and so fast there'd been no way he could breathe through it or acclimate to it in any way, and so he'd dropped like a stone.

"You screamed, doubled over and passed out." Kitsune explained quietly while helping him to his feet.

The few people hovering nearby began to disperse even as another stab bent him over again, this time though he was able to breathe and to his chagrin lean on the deceptively powerful but diminutive shape shifter.

"Perhaps you should call Dean?"

Sam shook his head, "It'll pass… they say "don't drink the water" but do I listen?" he smirked wrapping his arm around her shoulders and letting her lead him back to the jeep they'd rented.

OOooOO

Present:

Sam raised up the shotgun, firing as soon as Dean finished flying across his line of sight. He winced as his big brother thudded hard to the floor. But at least for the moment the spirit of Aidan Tuttle had retreated.

"Dean?" He moved quickly, the shotgun across his chest, his senses wide open and on alert as he grabbed the older man by the collar of his jacket and pulled him to his feet.

"Easy dude you're chokin' me."

"Quit scarin' me man."

"Yeah well this bastard's startin' t'scare me. We burned the bones, sanctified the ground, I mean what the hell else does this son of a bitch want?"

As if in direct answer to his question the apparition of Aidan Tuttle, a ginormous bull of a man lumbered across the front room toward the cellar door. It didn't seem to even notice the two hunters as long as they weren't in his way.

"Let's go find out." Sam suggested.

Staying behind him they followed carefully into the cellar, both of them thinking that any time they wound up underground, things didn't tend to turn out very well for them.

"You thinking Mordechai Murdock or Eddy Jay?" Sam asked.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking into shelves of dust and cobweb coated preserves.

"Either option sucks." Dean breathed tightly.

One by one the ghost pushed the jars off the shelves then bent to examine the contents.

"What the hell is he looking for?" Sam asked.

"Did you see the picture of that battleaxe he was married to? She probably stuck his nuts in one of those jars." Dean shook his head.

"Dude seriously."

"I am! Think about it Sammy… wouldn't you be pissed if you got saddled with some brick shithouse that looked like her? I mean shit, what if she wanted kids y'know?" Dean shuddered.

"Nice."

"I'm just sayin."

On the far side of the cellar Aidan Tuttle bent down, and withdrew a long, darkened something from a jar of what used to be peaches, then straightened up smiling and holding the last bit of his physical being left in the world.

"Awww…man I didn't wanna be right."

"Ooooh…" they winced looking away from Tuttle and at each other, their grimaces mirrored in each others' face. "Is that…?" Sam started.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Looks like Lorena Bobbitt wasn't so original after all." Dean nodded.

At the periphery of their respective vision, the ghost of Aidan Tuttle exploded into a storm of ash in spite of the smile on its face.

"Glove up and grab it willya Sam, we gotta burn it."

"Like hell." Sam shook his head and reached into Dean's pocket, pulling out the can of lighter fluid and dousing the severed member quickly as Dean struck a matchbook ablaze. Sam capped the can, Dean tossed the matches, and a small fire erupted to life.

Pain furrowed Sam's brows for a split second.

"Is it just me or is it wrong that torching a dick preserved in a jar of peaches for over a hundred years really doesn't even faze me?" Dean asked, his gaze stuck on the little flaming pile.

To his left Sam shuffled backwards and folded in half, a raging agony grinding and writhing in his low abdomen, almost as if he was on fire from his own manhood up to his belly button. Sweat exploded out of him in rivers, his clothes vacuum sealed to his body and his breath caught in his throat as the agony drove him to his knees.

"Sam?" Dean asked turning. "Sam?!" he fell to the younger man's side, "What's wrong?"

All the young hunter could do was shake his head and keep gasping for breath. "Can't… breathe… Christ… hurts…" then he groaned and rolled forward hugging his knees to his chest.

Fear exploded through Dean, he never wanted to see Sam in this kind of pain or look this small again.

"What is it Sam?"

But again, all he could do was shake his head. Dean pulled his cell and tried to dial 911, but there was no signal.

"Figures, damnit…. Sammy you gotta help me out, there's no reception here, we gotta get you to the car."

Sam shook his head, "Can't," he panted barely able to look up into Dean's concerned frown, "God…" he pleaded and groaned again before his eyes bulged wide and another rend shot through him, the agony uncontainable. His pain exploded out into the cellar in a howl that raised up every one of Dean's hairs.

OOooOO

"Shit!" Dean cursed while his ears rang with the sound and volume of Sam's scream.

Sam grunted and groaned as Dean muscled the taller, heavier man to his feet, his arm over Dean's shoulders until he stumbled.

"I gotcha." The older man muttered ducking down and hoisting his baby brother into a far too familiar firemans' carry.

As soon as Dean's shoulder touched Sam's belly, the younger hunter screamed as the world faded out. Vision was gone, only sound remained and very little more than strange sinister whispers on the wind at that.

His breath stopped, his heart pounded and fluttered, his blood seemed to freeze in his veins and he was sure that things were starting to explode within him.

Then suddenly, the pressure was gone from his belly and he was fairly sure there was a throaty glass pack chop vibrating through him. The world threw him this way and that as Dean navigated seas of blacktop.

"Sam? Talk t'me."

"Mmm… fuck!" Sam panted. "Can't…" his hands flailed for a moment, his fingers turned the glove box open and dug until the comforting coolness of a .35 fell into the palm of his hand, "Kill it… shit… can't… pain… breathe… Dean…" he gasped desperately while checking the mag and tugging on the slide.

"Hey! Whoa! Sam!" Dean wrapped his hand around the barrel trying to tug the gun from his little brother's hand and still keep the car on the black two lane ribbon.

"No! Dean!" Sam barked then doubled over again as his cell chimed from the depths of his jacket pocket. "Please!"

"Sorry Sammy." Dean chewed his lower lip and raised his elbow. The strike was fast and clean and followed by a second one just because he knew Sam had a hard head.

Once his little brother gave up consciousness, Dean's searched his pockets pulling his phone out just as his own began to ring.

"Yeah Bobby." He answered checking Sam's missed calls then nearly sighing with relief when he realized that call too had been from Bobby. "What's up?"

"Where are you boys?"

"Heading toward the nearest hospital to Perry Missouri why?"

"Hospital? What'd you do?" Bobby asked.

"It's Sam, we were on a hunt and he just doubled over… damned near gut shot himself just a minute ago. I'm thinking maybe an appendix?"

"Mmm, I wouldn't bet on it." Bobby groaned, something in his voice warning Dean that he wasn't gonna like what he was about to hear.

"How the hell would you know?"

"Because they took his appendix out almost seven months ago, after we got him back from Lilith." Bobby reminded him, "It was shredded remember."

"So what then?" Dean asked frowning at his barely conscious little brother.

"The alert I put on the hospital in Bell Rock Arizona just pinged. The baby's coming." Bobby sighed.

OOooOO

TBC.

Please R&R

Thanks sifi.


	2. Chapter 2

The Coming – chpt 2.

By: sifi.

OOooOO

"Wh..hat?" Dean nearly choked on a chuckle that erupted from somewhere frightened.

"I said the baby's coming what're you finally goin' deaf?" Bobby half shouted.

Dean was helpless to stop his mouth from stretching while another laugh barked out. _This isn't funny._ He told himself and still another laugh came rolling up.

"It's not supposed to be here for another two months." He held the phone away and covered his mouth, trying to suppress the snicker. _This can't really be… I mean… why the fuck US?_

"Uh…mm hmm what was that…?" he collected himself enough to bring the phone back to his ear.

"I said they just took her in for emergency surgery, that baby's not waiting for any_one_ or any_thing_, you boys need to head on down there."

"Where's Crowhawk?" Dean asked. The old guardian had been through a lot in the last year, most particularly after having met the Winchester brothers while they were hunting a wraith that burrowed into Dean and used his suppressed darkness to gain control over the hunter, nearly killing him in the process.

"He's there, keeping his ears open, he'll do everything he can to keep track of what happens."

"You don't suppose he'd…"

"I wouldn't even ask him to do something like that. It needs to be done, it's gonna be up to Sam, you know that better than I do."

"So what'm I supposed t'do Bobby … ignore what could be something more than just sympathy labor pains…" he chuckled a few times more than continued, "… hee red headed woman… ahem, or just go on faith…"

"Faith isn't your strong suit. Get him checked out then get your asses back down to Bell Rock and finish this before it's too late."

"I'm not a fan of the idea of hurting a baby Bobby."

"You got two choices, you and Sam deal with this now while it's manageable, or later when god only knows how many people will have already suffered."

All the giggles suddenly fled as Dean frowned and chewed his lower lip, "I'll call you when we get there. If anything else comes up, let us know." He closed the phone, not bothering to wait for any kind of confirmation. Right now Bobby wasn't one of his favorite people, and the fact that he was right only made it worse.

OOooOO

Holy Family Hospital. Bell Rock, Arizona.

"It's gonna be okay hon, women have been going through this since the dawn of time," the obstetrics nurse stroked Lily's hand while carefully masking the curiosity and actual distaste for what she was seeing. There weren't many times, working in obstetrics for the last twenty five years that she'd been taken by surprise or felt anything other than joy for being party to bringing a new life into the world, but so far, this night was bringing thoughts of transferring departments.

She remembered this woman from a few months ago, she'd been brought in during her fourth month with a premature labor everyone was certain would kill the baby, if not the mother as well. But suddenly the pain had stopped and after a few days of monitoring with everything well within normal limits, she was sent home with orders to rest as much as possible and avoid any heavy work.

For a quarter of a century she'd been watching little hands and feet pushing against their mommas' bellies, looking for the boundaries into the world or just stretching as the baby turned, ready to take that nose dive outside. But tonight, with this woman and this baby, something was somehow different.

Lily screamed, her grip twisting and grinding the bones of the nurse's hand, "Oh GOD! Stop! Stop now please! I can't do this!" her eyes, wide, terrified in a way that was deeper than the usual, _'I'm a first time mother this kind of pain can't be right!'_. "Please help me… please, it's not right. Please help me, you have to stop this!" she whispered as something inside seemed to break loose and fluid splattered on the floor. "Oh my GOD!"

"Easy Lily, easy hon, it's your water, it just broke is all." She leaned down then sat up, her face stiff, her smile wooden. "How's about we get you an epidural huh? Looks like that little one's coming whether through hell or high water." She pressed the call button over Lily's head frantically so the woman couldn't see. "We're gonna get the docs in here and let this little tiger out okay?"

Lily's eyes started to glaze, sweat soaked her hair and in spite of the fever raging through her, she was deathly pale. Given the amount of blood that had just fallen out of her body the nurse wasn't surprised.

OOooOO

The hose-like spurt of blood that peppered the Impala's dash and inner windshield nearly startled the crap out of the eldest Winchester brother. The car fishtailed briefly before he brought it under expert control in spite of Sam's ear-splitting scream and sudden attempt to bolt out of the racing vehicle. _You gotta quit doing that Sam so help me dude!_ He pulled the car over, his heart in his throat as Sam's insanely long legs pushed against the floorboard and his upper body nearly bent backwards over the front seat, his arms crossed over his chest and abdomen even as blood boiled up pulsing hot and wet over them through his shirts and jacket.

"What the fuck? Sam?" Dean was on his knees in a second, tearing at the younger man's clothes in the confines of the front seat trying to find out where the blood was coming from. "No, no no no no no… c'mon man… please…" he pried his little brother's arms open then hiked up his sopping wet shirts, his stomach flipping over instantly at the sight.

"Oh my God, oh my God… Sam?" he grabbed the younger man's face with deep red slick-sticky gloved hands, his bright green eyes searching into an agonized, oblivious blue-green gaze. "Sam? Please…"

He looked again at his little brother's low chest and abdomen, whatever he could see in the darkness. He reached up flicking the dome light on and gasped.

The younger man's chest and belly was shredded to ribbons, the same palm-leaf claw pattern that seven months ago had taken over eight hundred stitches to repair. The same pattern that Lilith had used Sam's psychic ability to tear into his own body.

"God no…" he breathed before his lips disappeared in a fine line and his eyes covered with mist, "Sam…" he quickly closed the younger man's clothes, cinching his jacket tight and leaning deep on the shredded flesh. Then looked up and because he had no other outlet for his sense of raging impotence and the despairing futility that sank his heart to his feet screamed, "FUCK YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

OOooOO

"Time of death 3:33 a.m. …" the rest of the surgeon's words were drowned out by the raging squall of a newborn boy.

OOooOO

Sam's desperate howl cut through his older brother deeper than any knife or demonic mauling could.

He watched the younger man's eyes fly open, heard the rattling in his chest as he drew ginormous lung-fulls of air into himself and held his breath as the hunter bucked forward, curling in on himself in a ball before his muscles went lax and he lay gasping, drenched in blood and sweat in his exhaustion, sandwiched between the seat and the passenger door.

"Dean." The word was spoken quietly, just above a whisper.

He didn't move, resist or even seem to notice as the older man leaned forward, gingerly, carefully and almost fearfully lifted the tail of his shirt and all the other layers atop it, to expose Sam's torso again.

A second later he spread Sam's arms and lifted the layers of dripping red clothes to find his little brother's skin fully intact, his scars long healed just as they should have been, and in spite of the quickly drying bloody freckles that told him he hadn't imagined it all, without a sign of injury.

Dean's expression said it all as Sam craned his neck forward, looking down and remembering only the horrible agonies that blocked everything else from his mind, except two facts.

"It's here." He groaned, "Lily's dead." His eyes cracked open and something deep inside found the energy to flip over at the sight of his brother's face. The last time he'd seen even a similar look was up in Washington state when a universe had collapsed nearly taking Dean's sanity with it.

Dean cleared his throat then tried to speak. He couldn't, so cleared his throat again. Everything under his skin trembled with tension and the idea of a coherent thought was elusive. Something was deeply wrong inside him and whatever it was, Sam somehow knew. Knowledge passed through the younger hunter's face leaving Dean burning with shame, rage, frustration and yet somehow limp with impotence. It was real, everything they'd been through, everything their lives had put them through, everything John taught them, every boogeyman they ever hunted, every God, Goddess, or deity they'd encountered, waged war against, worked with, were themselves, or could be, was real.

Somewhere in the back of his brain there'd always been a certainty that at the end of the day when they checked into a motel room and washed their hands, or showered off the efforts of their latest adventure, that it all somehow just ended for the time being, existing outside the comfort of some tiny little bubble that was the reality that was them. After all, they were just two brothers moving through their lives doing impossible things to impossible things and managing to help some folks along the way. Just the two of them, sometimes more, sometimes less, but all the same just them, _that_ was their reality.

But there was a leak in Dean's bubble and instead of anything flowing out, it seemed that something else had a reality too, and both it and its own brand of stark terror were leaking into his.

"Dean?" Sam asked pushing himself up, gathering together his slowly returning strength while his eyes held onto his big brothers.

_Oh god… I know that look._ He thought watching Sam's brows furrow and his mouth turn down, _something easy, something real. Something… cause everything else can't be. It can't be real, no one could, would… it's not possible. Keep it simple…_ his eyes flicked to a descending droplet of red on the inside of the windshield. _Sammy made a mess. Perfect! _

Visibly shaking Dean pushed himself into the driver's seat, his hands clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening quickly while his eyes desperately clung to the road in front of them. He slid the gearshift down, it popped into second, he slid it back up, it hit neutral. He bit his lip and carefully inched it down into drive. He could feel Sam's gaze on him. _Quit it Sam._

"Dean?"

"The windex is in the back seat, start cleaning." Lead weighed down what should have been a banter-ish directive.

"Dean?" Sam asked again.

"Shut up." He clipped emotionlessly.

_Oooh, Dean's gone bye bye,_ he thought watching his brother carefully while he reached for the windex and began swiping half-heartedly at what felt like oceans of his own blood.

OOooOO

He gasped, the car rocked faintly and he wondered how long he'd been gone. It had been just a snippet of a vision, a memory actually, but he felt it through every one of his 360 degrees squared.

It was a combination of sensations really, one a pressure that gave him an odd kind of comfort as if he were swaddled safely in his own arms. The other was a stinging raw wound that ran over him an inch at a time.

He could hear John's voice vibrating in his ear and feel his father's arms around him.

_That wasn't… was? No. That was the other one. The one dad killed. Was that real? I don't… it doesn't make sense._

At a wide stretch of road he threw on the hazards and pulled over.

He leaned forward, his sweat beaded forehead against his hands and drew a shallow tight breath. The next came quickly while his chest clamped down and suddenly he saw stars as the gasping started.

_Shit._ He threw the door open slid out.

Stroking the line of the car he walked toward the rear then slid down the runoff ditch.

"Dean?" Sam's sleepy voice called.

"Potty time." He replied forcing himself to take a slow deep breath while letting loose.

_All this time, all the pain, all the times we've died, _he shook his head, _I don't understand how could it have been real? Any of it?_

Finished with his business he returned to the road side and lowered himself to the ground, the weight of the enormity of it all refusing to let him up.

Crickets sang, the moon moved across the sky, moths and other night fliers passed by or ran into him while his definitions of self, and reality transformed into something he was going to have to learn to quantify all over again.

It wasn't anything in particular that woke Sam from his exhausted sleep but with the sky starting to gray up behind them, the engine running, the gas tank down to just over a quarter and Dean gone it was a safe bet that something was pretty wrong.

He reached into the glove box, prepped the .45 and slid it into his pocket along with a small canister of salt. Slowly he opened the door.

"Dean?" he whispered then frowned as his eyes caught on his big brother sitting on the ground against the rear tire, frighteningly still.

"Dean?" he asked more loudly while scanning the area and stepping out into the pre-dawn in a crouch.

At the older man's side Sam was relieved to find him breathing. He was ice cold and nearly as pale as a lane stripe. He grasped him by the chin till they were looking into each others' eyes, only there was really no one home inside Dean's right now.

A chill shot through Sam.

"Dean? What happened? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he asked quickly inspecting his big brother for injuries.

Dean sat while Sam pawed at him. At one point he thought Dean might be coming back when he turned his head and his brows furrowed in curiosity.

"Dean? What the hell man? Talk t'me!" Sam half shouted feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

Slowly his hand reached out, his palm laying flat to Sam's chest, "You died."

"We both have, too many times to count… Dean talk to me… what happened? Is there something out there?"

"People die everywhere we go."

Sam shook his head, his mouth turned down in a frown, "We go there because people have died. Dean don't you check out on me now, not now! We have work to do! We have to get to Bell Rock, do you remember Bell Rock? Lily's dead, the baby's here we have to stop it while we can."

"It's real," Dean seemed to sigh as Sam grabbed him under the armpits and lifted him to his feet.

"Yeah it's real Dean, always has been, always gonna be." He guided the older man to the passenger seat and strapped him in then threw the blanket from the back seat over him, "You catch pneumonia I'm gonna dump you at Bobby's."

Sam slid behind the wheel, flipped the hazards off and pulled out onto the empty road his frown twisting in no less than two different directions at the moment, one toward the heinous task awaiting them in Arizona, and one toward his big brother's sudden psychological vacancy.

"Dad killed me once. That should have been real." Dean muttered then turned his eyes out toward the road.

OOooOO

Please R&R.

Thanks.

Sifi.


	3. Chapter 3

The Coming – chpt 3.

By: sifi.

OOooOO

Holy Family Hospital.

He smiled through the glass, grinning at the half dozen newborns sleeping so peacefully, each of them swaddled snugly.

With a look around he entered the warm unit draped in a jonnie and moved easily to the crib marked "Baby Boy Richards" with the date and time written beneath.

"Hello baby boy," he said as the newborn turned to the sound of his voice, its eyes opened and its fist found its way into its mouth.

Tommy Crowhawk leaned down gently scooping the fragile life into his arms and retreated to a corner of the nursery where he sat in the rocker and from beneath the jonnie pulled a small bottle from his pocket.

The baby's deep blue eyes fixed on his.

Crowhawk swept the infant's fist from his mouth, trading it deftly for the nipple.

He smiled softly watching that little mouth work and rocked slowly, the faint vibration of his humming soothing the child whose eyes blinked slowly closed though his mouth continued to drain the specially prepared bottle.

OOooOO

"Dean, c'mon." Sam opened the passenger door but his big brother's only move was a turn of the head to look at him. "C'mon, get out."

Slowly, dazedly Dean's hand traced the line of the seatbelt down to the buckle.

Sam shook his head, leaving the older man to work it out while he opened up the motel room and brought their stuff inside.

Several moments later he returned to the car.

"Dude! Now!" Sam grabbed him by the jacket and hauled him bodily out onto the blacktop. "Y'know we don't have time for this shit Dean. You're gonna get a good night's rest and go find my brother somewhere inside that thick skull of yours."

He half dragged Dean into the room then moved quickly to the bathroom where he dumped his blood soaked clothes from a plastic trash bag into the tub and started rinsing them.

"I want you to stretch out, get in bed and get some sleep." He commanded over his shoulder, "Everything'll be back to normal when you wake up." He muttered to himself.

Part of him wanted to call Bobby but another part of him knew that this little mental vacation of Dean's had been a lifetime coming. He was honestly surprised that it hadn't come a long time ago, maybe even as far back as the night Azazel using John had nearly exploded Dean inside his own skin. Or any of the other times he'd come close to or actually had died.

In the main room bedsprings protested as Dean slid under the covers, doing as he was told in a frighteningly literal way.

He wondered if he should call Laura, she might be able to get Dean grounded in his head again, especially with her gifts, but he hadn't seen her in months. Not since he and Kitsune went on their South American vacation. By the time they returned she'd gone her own way to try and find out who she was.

"Man our lives are fucked up." He muttered wringing his clothes out now that the water was running almost clear. "She still loves him doesn't she?" he sat back on his heels flushing with embarrassment at the memory of her skin on his in the back seat of the Impala while Enki watched through Dean's eyes as Sam came within a hairs breadth of hurting his brother in a way brothers never should. "What if something went wrong? What if they broke up?" he wondered aloud hanging his stuff through the towel rack. With those clothes clean he stripped down and stepped into the shower. Everywhere the explosion of blood had dried was itching like crazy.

While the hot water beat him his fingers traced the scars that ran from the base of his throat to the root of his penis. He was still surprised she hadn't slashed through the muscle to leave his guts hanging out.

He pressed his hands to the wall behind the stream and ducked his head suddenly flooded with the memory of being utterly helpless, and all the burning agonies Lilith and the Asag had put him through. The things he'd been used to do left him weak with humiliation and he wondered if he somehow deserved the pain of it all.

His body shook with his tremulous breathing while a steady flow of tears mingled with water and the occasional nearly silent sob was muted by the man-made rain.

OOooOO

_Dean wheeled around, his heart in his throat as he took in the beautiful burnt orange rock of the tower's throne room. 'That's where he ran to me and showed me his gift.' He recalled the grin on his boys' face as he ran across the stone leaping into his arms, never an instant of hesitation that he wouldn't be caught. _

_He watched a shadow of Inanna shed her battle gear piece by piece as she strode across the room, a wickedly seductive glint in her eyes as she captured him and moved them out onto the balcony where she stripped him down and mounted him. "Oh God," he panted feeling his mouth stretch in a blissful smile. Then she was gone and he stood alone once more. _

_He moved through the throne room, the wall behind the throne itself a copy of the tablets of destinies. Beside the throne now, he shoved at it but the gold and stone monstrosity wouldn't budge. "Son of a bitch… come on!" he groaned until finally it started to move. From behind the wall an enormous dark skinned man with laughing brown eyes chuckled his way to Dean. _

"_You make Sam look short." He swallowed hard as the writing on the tablets glowed white first then that coppery orange he was familiar with. _

"_Humans are small in stature." _

"_You _are _Enki right?" he asked, "I mean you look like you should be him, uhm us."_

"_You've lost something?" the deity asked, his voice rich and silky and something Barry White would envy. _

"_My mind I think," Dean quipped._

_Dean looked up and shook his head, his hands were trembling and he felt like he could fly apart at the merest breeze, "I don't know. I thought, I hoped…" he shook his head again and stood mute before the first incarnation of his soul. _

"_Come." Enki directed with a smile. _

_He led Dean to the passage behind the throne. _

_They walked through the deep orange halls, surprisingly the much taller man, '_God'_ Dean reminded himself walked beside him. He seemed so calm, so serene that Dean couldn't begin to identify with him. _

_As they walked, at times Dean looked up catching Enki's eye. At times Enki looked down catching Dean's. _

"_Why…?" he started and frowned, unable to make the question sound right even in his head. _

_A throaty series of roars bounced between the walls. Bright excitement lit Dean's face as he looked up into warm brown eyes. "The lions!" he breathed. _

"_The more accurate question is 'what'." _

"_What?" Dean asked. _

"_Exactly." _

"_What what?"_

"_That I'm afraid is the question only you can answer." _

_They reached the end of the hallway, a balcony peered out over a vast open yard. _

_Enki leaned against the balcony wall as Dean approached. _

"_Yeah but you're me, or I'm you, so if the answer's in my head it's in your head and you can fill me in, explain how for 29 out of 33 years I never realized that all this shit is really real."_

"_You've always known." _

_Dean huffed, "Not like this."_

_Enki smiled, turned and with a surprisingly gentle grip, tore open Dean's shirts._

"_Hey!" Dean backed away. _

_The deity smiled indulgently and pointed to the ivory chest, "Any of those not feel real?" he asked._

_Dean shook his head and closed his shirts only to find that they were once again whole, "No, I mean of course they did, but I mean," he sighed and scratched his head, "It's like… like there's this impact, like what we do has this impact but I can't see where it ends, what the 'big picture' result is_ _y'know?" _

"_Every beginning contains its own end, and everything its opposite. Everything is possible if anything is." _

"_Y'know believe it or not I actually understood that." _

_Enki grinned and motioned over the wall, "Now, a more glorious vision than that is rare." _

_Dean looked down and met with the sight of Ina riding on the backs of two lions, no reins, no harnesses, armor, barely any clothes at all. The animals moved in perfect concert step for step, if one had to leap an obstruction, the other leaped as well. _

_Her hair flew in a banner behind her and her smile glowed through the meadow. _

_Dean sighed, a hint of longing coloring the sound, "Well there is one more glorious sight." He smiled. _

_Enki laughed, mellow and good natured, this was the kind of God that gave Dean hope about other Gods. _

_A different kind of sound drew his attention. He looked around finding he was alone on the balcony. 'I know that sound,' his mouth turned down in a frown. "Enki?" he called then glanced down the corridor they'd traveled to arrive here. _

_The sound came again, unmistakable. "No." he gasped looking down to the grasses below. Ina was gone, the lions lay in the shade of a large tree panting sleepily. _

_The giggle sounded again, "No, not down there…" _

_Then his blood went cold. "No." he breathed as a shadow grew long from beneath the balcony. It's movements were wooden and the joy in its laugh contagious. Sadly the boy had no knowledge of what danger he was in._

"_Sam?" he shook his head. "Sammy! Don't move!" he called drawing the attention of the lionesses while he looked for a quick route down. 'Climb, I can do that, it's only a twenty foot drop.' But those twenty feet suddenly looked like they were twenty stories._

_The little one turned at the sound of his voice, the cherubic face splitting wide into a huge smile as the chubby arms came up, fingers grasping toward him. _

"_Don't move!" he ordered. _

"_Dee." _

_In the distance one of the lionesses rose to a prowling crouch and began slinking forward. _

OOooOO

"Sammy!" he screamed bolting awake, soaked in sweat, his eyes saucer wide and his heart racing in his throat as Sam's hand grasped him gently at the neck and shoulder.

"It's okay Dean."

Panting deeply the older man's eyes raced around the room. He didn't recognize it, and for that he was grateful, that meant it wasn't the tower.

"It was just a nightmare." Sam cracked open a bottle of water and handed it over.

"Yeah." He gasped then drank.

Sam moved back to the chair at the desk where the laptop sat waiting patiently for him to return to it, but kept his eyes on Dean.

"Are you better?" he asked finally.

"No." Dean gave a quick shake of his head.

Sam nodded, "Well at least you're cogent."

Dean reached for the menu on the nightstand and nodded, they were in Gallup, New Mexico, just a few hours away from Sedona, Bell Rock and Holy Family Hospital.

"Sam," Dean shook his head, "I don't know if I can do this."

"It's not up to you to do anything Dean. This is mine to take care of."

"That's not how it works."

"Yes it is!" Sam roared. "This time it is!"

"Look, Sam we do this, we do it together… I'm not gonna let you carry the burden alone."

"Stop trying to protect me." Sam breathed, sagging back in the chair.

Dean shook his head. "I can't."

Sam's head fell forward, his shoulders slumped and he drew a couple shaky breaths.

"What?"

"Tommy took the baby. He's waiting for us." He looked up, his eyes red and wet, "It's a boy Dean. I have a son."

OOooOO

Tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks. Sifi.


	4. Chapter 4

The Coming – chpt 4.

By: sifi.

OOooOO

Dean glanced out of the mini-mart door, Sam's silhouette visible in the passenger window, _sleeping, dreaming, playing possum?_ He wasn't sure, but the important thing was that he was in the car.

"Hey! Thank god I got you," he breathed easier but lowered his voice as he moved into one of the aisles scanning the snackage. "A couple things, I need an herb, something deadly but easy to get my hands on." He listened and nodded picking a bag of flame Cheetos, then moved along, "Okay… _How_ deadly is it? Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah." He grabbed a bag of Jack's Links beef jerky then headed for the register snagging a couple bottles of soda along the way, "Okay, really? That fast? Wow, and that little huh? Good. Alright then. Thanks… hey… keep your phone on and close. I might need some help real soon. Yeah," he smiled softly and paid the clerk, "Me too, and thanks."

He took a deep steadying breath before exiting the mart and returning to the car. The less Sam knew the better.

_He's his SON!_ A very angry voice inside him cried, _"I know." _He breathed. _You can't do this!_ That angry voice screamed. There really wasn't a reply for that.

OOooOO

Holy Family Hospital.

Papers were filed, the police were notified, the security tapes scoured and an amber alert issued for the missing Baby Boy Richards. Nearest blood relatives were sought. None existed.

Very little other action would take place on his behalf. There were just too many other missing children to consider.

OOooOO

Sam's brows furrowed and his mouth puckered as Dean looked left then right then strode up the walk looking very much like someone going to buy some crack. The only difference was this house was well tended, well manicured and in an upper middle class neighborhood.

"What're you doing Dean?" he muttered softly.

Earlier he'd tried to take refuge from what they were about to do, in sleep. But that proved to be a bad move. He woke up with his heart pounding and breath stuck in his throat.

He'd dreamed of a house not too different from the one they should have grown up in, hours later the images still wouldn't leave him be.

_Sun shone bright through fluttering birch leaves, a shaft struck him in the eye but he smiled at it. _

"_C'mon dad, throw it!" _

"_Alright, this one's a classic knuckle ball," Sam rolled the ball, feeling for the stitching, then set his fingers and wound up. He brought his knee up into his chest, a look of wonder crossed his boy's face. He had Lily's facial structure but Sam's eyes and smile. He was a beautiful boy who brought joy with him wherever he went. _

_Sam's leg came out and down and he gave the ball a solid throw, but nowhere near the powerhouse pitch he'd feigned. _

_Horsehide hit leather with a solid snap and his young voice shouted excitedly, "I caught it! I caught it dad!" _

"_Good job tiger! You nailed it." Sam grinned watching the boy, whose name he suddenly knew was Neil, toss the ball up into the air and catch it while racing across the lawn. He leaped into Sam's arms warm and bright and full of life. _

"_Uncle Dean's coming." The boy's expression faltered as a dark orange glow passed quickly through his eyes. "He's worried." His eyes met Sam's, "Should I go get my bag?" _

_Sam kissed his temple then put him down. "Yeah, go get your bag." _

_And sure enough the Impala turned the corner just three houses down, the glass pack chop followed quickly as Dean sped to the curb, a hint of a fishtail as he jammed the brakes the only real tell-tale sign he was worried. _

"_Sam!" he leaped out of the drivers' door. _

_Sam startled at the sight, his brother's hair had gone mostly silver, and though he still kept it short and spiked, the goatee he'd taken to wearing still showed reddish brown on his face and belied his true age. 'Christ he's got another month before he hits 40… I'm so sorry Dean.' And part of him had a horrible weighty feeling of desperation deep inside his belly. Something that told him whatever it was that he and Dean had been through in the last 7 years, had been harder on his big brother than he'd realized. _

"_He's getting his go-bag. What's up?" Sam asked moving to his big brother and grasping him in a quick tight hug the older man easily and happily returned. _

"_You've been made. Has he been using his… abilities?" _

"_Not that I'm aware of. What's happening?" _

"_The others, I don't know how…" Dean frowned shaking his head. _

"_Crowhawk you think?" Sam asked. He didn't want to voice the other alternative, but knew Dean would. _

"_Or Bobby." _

"_Crowhawk's in a fucking coma, who the hell is reading him? And Bobby's in a fucking wheelchair…" Sam ran his hands through his hair. _

"_You know a wheelchair aint' gonna hold Bobby down." Dean wrapped his hand around Sam's neck and pulled his head down. _

_They stood foreheads pressed together, breathing in sync, both of them with red, misty eyes. _

"_Dean…" Sam sniffed, his breath shuddered in his chest. _

"_Sam…" Dean's voice issued the familiar warning, "No." _

"_DAAAAAAD!" the scream sounded launching the brothers toward the house as if they were in their twenties again. _

_Dean zoomed around toward the back while Sam raced right through the front door. _

"_Defense!" Sam roared racing up the stairs. _

_Another sound, this one deeper and far more aged tore through the air. _

_In the hall Sam reached into the linen closet grasping the smoke black .45 John had given him when he was nine, then pressed his back to the wall just outside his son's bedroom door. _

_Heavy weight thudded to the floor as Sam inched closer. _

_The bedroom door whipped open, Neil silhouetted by the afternoon light as Sam pressed himself flat to the wall. _

"_Dad?" Neil moved into the hallway, his 'go bag' in hand. His body shaking and his face stained with tears. _

_Sam looked behind him, toward the room. _

_Neil moved forward. "Dad?" _

_Sam's eyes grabbed his as sounds of a scuffle and a gunshot went off downstairs. _

"_Dad? What'd I do?" Neil asked watching his father move toward the bedroom. _

"_Dean!?" Sam called over the rail._

"_Clear!" the older hunter retorted. _

"_Get up here!" Sam called moving into his son's bedroom. _

_On the floor Tommy Crowhawk lay, his visage a grotesquerie. _

_His eyes appeared to have exploded in their sockets. The tissue beneath them was specked with tiny purple pinhole freckles. Sam knew petechial hemorrhaging when he saw it. _

_On the floor was a small water bottle filled with a murky substance._

_Tommy's mouth was twisted in a soundless scream, and one of his hands was locked deep inside the flesh of his throat while the other appeared to be involved in pulling his right hand free. _

_Breath shuddered out of Sam, "Neil?" he asked kneeling beside the aged hunter and checking for vitals he knew weren't there. _

"_Yeah?" Neil stood at the doorway with Dean behind him, a hand on the boys' shoulder. _

"_What happened?" _

"_He came out of the closet after I grabbed my go-bag. He grabbed me, said he had something I needed to drink, that it would make everything go back to the way it was supposed to be." Neil explained. _

"_Then what?" Sam asked. _

"_I screamed and you told me 'defense'. So I did what you said, I thought about being safe… and he fell down… just like that." Neil explained. _

"_What exactly did you think son?" Sam asked not looking at his boy but still knowing Dean held the youth in his arms from behind. _

"_I knew he was going to hurt me. I knew if he lived he'd just keep coming. So I knew he had to die." Neil explained. "Was I wrong dad?" _

_Sam couldn't hear anything else. The rush of blood and adrenaline in his ears kept him from hearing more from his boy. His throat burned, and his eyes stung while breath shuddered in his chest. _

When he awoke, his pillow was soaked with sweat and his body felt sick in more ways than he ever wanted to know about. He resolved to stave off sleep until this was done. The problem was he didn't know if it was just a dream, or if it was a vision warning him of what could happen if somehow they failed in this mission. Thankfully Dean had been out running a couple of errands and getting them some food for the road, so by the time he'd returned Sam was able to put on his game face and keep another burden from his big brother's shoulders.

He shook his head and sniffed, "Please God. Please help me." He whispered and drew his knees into his chest while popping one of Dean's tapes into the deck. The song that came peeling out of those speakers sent a shiver of hope, and fear, and despair through him.

Slowly he began to sing along, "There's a lady who's sure, all that glitters' is gold and she's buying a stairway to heaven…"

OOooOO

"I met your dad a couple times, how's he doing?" The woman asked while leading Dean through the house to the kitchen.

"He died about four years ago."

"Oh I'm sorry." She touched his arm gently, "So how do you know Laura?"

A faintly sad smile touched his lips as he held up his left hand and showed her his ring. "She's my girl."

The woman's eyes brightened, "She didn't tell me she was married! Congratulations!"

"It's unofficial… more like… just being committed to each other y'know?"

She laughed, "That's pretty much marriage. But you hunt separately?"

"Yeah. It's complicated."

"Life's complicated." She smiled then opened the pantry door.

"Ma'am you don't know the half of it." He agreed, while his eyes roamed over what looked like a library of herbs, roots, flowers, dried insects and God only knew what else. "Holy crap."

"That's a lifetime of accumulating some of these things. Everything from dragon scales to pixie wings. Now… you said you have a sidhe sleep draught and it's not going to be strong enough for what you need?"

Dean shook his head.

"What're you trying to do?"

"We need to kill a very powerful cambion. Unless you know some way we can destroy the demon half and leave the human half intact?" He asked, his eyebrows arched in hope.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged wide, "You're certain it's a real cambion?"

Dean nodded.

She shook her head, "There is no way to separate its two 'sides'. It's very DNA is part demon." She noted his curious expression, "My son is a geneticist, his life's goal is to come up with a, well, I guess you could call it a vaccine against possession. He's been studying demon DNA for almost thirty years."

Dean chuckled, "Wow. I wish him luck."

"So you want to poison this being?" she asked, her expression doubtful.

Dean nodded.

"You're crazier than your father. It's almost impossible to kill a cambion with poison…" she stopped suddenly, "That's why you're going to add it to the sleep draught, knock its guard down so it can't metabolize the toxin."

Dean nodded, his eyes conveying his sadness.

"You don't want to kill it do you?" she asked.

"It's part human. No, I don't," He shook his head. "But it has to be done."

Something in his voice stopped her from asking anything else as she reached into one of the larger jars and pulled out a wormy looking piece of dried root. "The approximate body weight will tell you how long to let this steep. Use one cup of boiling water, no more than that. You'll want to let it steep 3 minutes for every ten pounds."

"That could amount to a lot of steeping."

"You're diluting it in a sleep draught, if you want your target to go peacefully, this is how you're gonna have to do it."

She slid the root into a plastic bag and handed it to Dean who slid it into his inner pocket.

She guided him back through the house and at the front door shook his hand, "Mr. Winchester if you're really doing what must be done, try to remember how many lives you'll be saving."

He huffed, "'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.' Right?"

Sympathy radiated from the woman as she nodded, patted him on the back and ushered him back out into the impossibly beautiful day.

OOooOO

Sedona, Arizona.

"Why the hell are we stopping here?" Sam grunted as Dean found a parking spot in the crowded WalMart lot.

"You think we're going to spoon feed our concoction to this kid? He's a newborn Sammy, baby needs a bottle."

"Crowhawk's obviously got a bottle Dean, he's been taking care of my," he shook his head, "the baby for two days already."

"Yeah well we're gonna do this, we're doing it our way okay?" he explained leaning into the window. Sam's confusion and reluctance was so easy to read it was almost as if Dean could feel it himself. Maybe he could. "Okay?" he pressed nodding as Sam's eyes barely flicked to his and his shoulders slumped.

"Whatever."

About ten minutes later Sam frowned as Dean approached the car with a surprisingly large bag in hand.

Dean tossed the bag in the trunk returning to the drivers' seat with a smaller bag that held a four pack of simple, clear plastic bottles.

"They didn't have singles?"

"It was this or a sixer."

"So what's the rest of the shit in the trunk?"

"They had boxer briefs on sale. I had to go through the men's department to get to the baby stuff so I grabbed us some undies… I'm tired of seeing your ass through those worn out shorts of yours, I swear they're probably the same ones you brought from Stanford."

"A couple of 'em…" Sam admitted, "they're still good."

"Dude, you're practically twice the size you were then." Dean sat back, his hands on the wheel, his eyes forward while he took a deep breath.

Seconds later he turned to face his brother, the man he'd raised, "You don't have to…"

"Don't." the younger man interrupted, "Don't say it," he turned sad sunken eyes on his brother, "I can't leave this to you, or anyone else."

"You didn't have any choice!" Dean barked, "This isn't something you thought out, or agreed to… and it's _still_ tearing you up! It's another shit hand you got dealt and I'm sick and tired of the universe trying to bury you in load after load of pure shit! You don't deserve it, you don't deserve to be Lucifer's chosen vessel. You don't deserve Azazel feeding you demon blood when you were a baby and all the shit that brought."

"You didn't deserve to spend 40 years in hell getting torn up one side and down the other." Sam tossed back. "And you don't deserve to carry the burden of cleaning up another one of my messes."

"That's the point Sam. It's not your mess, you didn't choose this. You didn't choose to father a child like this. Let me take care of this."

Sam looked away, he couldn't keep the water from falling out of his eyes any longer, "Are you that eager…" his voice broke.

Dean grimaced at the question but knew it came from his brother's pain. He rested his hand on Sam's shoulder, near his neck, "No."

Something in his voice got through to Sam, made him turn back and examine his brother closely. Something wasn't right.

OOooOO

Tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks. Sifi.


	5. Chapter 5

The Coming – chpt 5.

By: sifi.

OOooOO

"But it has to be done."

Sam narrowed his eyes at his big brother. He knew Dean. Knew him better than Dean would ever believe. His lips puckered and he shook his head.

"You've got something up your sleeve… what're you planning Dean?"

The older man sighed and lowered his eyes while shaking his head, "I never wanted this to happen Sam, I prayed every day that Lily would miscarry, that GOD would intervene, that one of those son of a bitchin' archangels would do SOMETHING. But nobody's doing a goddamned thing." Tears welled up in his eyes turning them into liquid pools of jade.

"They're leaving it up to us AGAIN to do _their_ dirty work and so help me I'm sick of it!" his breath shook, "but I can't see any other way. The lady I met with earlier this morning?"

Sam nodded.

"She's been in the supernatural biz longer than Bobby or Rufus or any human we've ever heard of."

"Longer than Laura?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled, "Laura's not human, not entirely. I'm talking about mortals not…" he paused and licked his lips, "beings… like us."

Sam nodded his understanding, "And?"

Dean shook his head, "There's no way to kill the demon part of that baby without killing the human part too." He clasped Sam's shoulder, "I'm sorry. The only thing we can do is make the little guy comfortable while he goes to sleep one last time."

Sam couldn't stop himself, there was no time to stem the little rivers that raced down his cheeks. His lips trembled and he bit them tight.

Dean nodded, "Please Sam, I'm begging you, at least I have an idea of what you're feeling… let me do this… let me save you this if nothing else."

Sam's gaze snapped to Dean's, ever since Sam told Dean that it was his powers Lilith used to murder their child while still in Laura's womb, that issue had been the proverbial "White Elephant" in the room. Sadly, Sam's pain was so great he couldn't stop his mouth.

"Are you saving me or getting revenge?" he asked though no emotion or life showed in his tone.

Dean's fist flew out of nowhere, some animal in its own right as it connected with Sam's face.

When his eyes stopped rolling in his skull Sam realized Deans' expression hadn't changed, the punch had been a reflex from somewhere so deep it was possible Dean might not even have realized he'd thrown it.

"I'm sorry." Sam dropped his eyes.

Dean breathed deep, "S'okay, it's a valid question."

Sam's eyes came up, his expression curious.

"You know how much it hurt me. More than anyone else on this god forsaken fucked up planet we live on… you know how much losing that baby hurt me." He admitted mistily.

Sam nodded.

"Imagine if it'd been born and then murdered?" Dean's words quaked in the air.

Sam nodded.

"Miscarriages happen, I can pretend to live with that."

Sam's face dropped down again.

Dean grasped him firmly by the hair and forced the younger man to look him in the eyes, "You have _never_ been to blame Sam. Never. I know that and…" he stopped to take a deep cleansing breath, "and until the day we do have our kids… you are, and will continue to be the first priority of my life. Do you understand me?"

Slowly, almost reluctantly Sam nodded and cursed the tears that continued to flow. "I wish it wasn't us, I wish it'd never been us Dean… I wish we were normal…" the words cracked abrasively out of his throat, his expression turned pleading, "isn't there some way we can call on who we used to be and change all this? End it? Make it… _not us?_"

Dean's sudden tearful laugh caught Sam at the heart. The despair in his big brother's face as he shook his head and let the wet stained humor roll out of him was more frightening than those moments just the day before yesterday when Dean hadn't been "home".

"These may be the hands we've been dealt Sam, but time has passed and we're left holding the bag, but you know what?"

"What?"

"If we're holding the bag, we get to make the rules." Dean's expression turned hard and full of conviction. "There's a war for our little corner of the universe about to come. We're the weapons of choice? We can choose to jam."

"Maybe it's better to just let him go to sleep so he won't have to grow up in a raped and tormented world." Sam nodded while looking at the floor.

Dean nodded, "Maybe it is."

Sam looked up, "It's still my duty."

"Okay." Dean nodded and put the car into drive.

OOooOO

Sedona Arizona – Tommy Crowhawk's trailer.

Outside in the warm Arizona night a sacred circle of lime had been poured, a pentagram at the heart of a sacred wheel. At the heart of the pentagram stands a stone altar. The shebang is encircled by torches.

Sam knocks on the trailer door.

Tommy opens. The boys disappear inside.

"Where is he?" Sam asked looking around the tiny abode.

"In back." Tommy answered and as Sam moves toward the rear calls, "Don't get attached to it!"

Dean grins knowingly at the old Apache, "You have."

"But it's not mine. The wound is shallow."

From the shadows Sam could see the infant was surrounded by pillows, nestled securely, lovingly, a blanket swaddling him.

He can't breathe. The baby's hand is stuffed fully into its mouth, his head turned to the side, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the lids while its breath moved easily into and out of its chest.

Sam moved to the side of the bed. He sat precariously at its edge, every instinct telling him to run, to leave the room, the trailer, to let Dean handle this and never ask what happened.

His hand reached out to stroke the light brown cornsilk that crowned the boy's head.

Indigo blue eyes opened. The fist stays in his mouth. The eyes meet Sam's and a smile turns up the corners of its mouth as its feet kick.

Sam couldn't stop himself. His hands slid beneath the tiny warm bundle, finger and thumb gently cradling the skull while his other hand spread wide to cup the rest of its body.

The baby continued to suck on its hand.

Sam lifted him, held him aloft and strained his every fiber to try and find something that would betray this child as an evil entity. He couldn't.

His arms wrapped the infant to his chest, his lips fell to its head, tears flew once again as he kissed that clean fresh scent of Baby Magic that somehow brought comfort and the fragrance of chocolate chip cookies to him.

A tiny, goober slimed hand closed on his nose.

He gasped and smiled and felt like he should die.

"Sam?" Dean nearly whispered standing at the doorway.

"Take him!" Sam clenched, holding the infant up toward his big brother while his head turned away, "Dean…" he sniffed wet and hot.

Dean came forward taking the beautiful bundle into his arms with an innate ease and rocking him as the baby's face crinkled and thought about starting to cry.

"I gotcha kiddo… I gotcha…easy there tiger," Dean smiled to the boy, holding him close. He turned back down toward the front of the trailer while the root soaked in a tiny pot of water.

"Children are sacred to our people." Crohawk began as he and Dean sat across from one another, the oldest Winchester holding the infant as if it was second nature. In fact, it was.

"This goes against everything that is right and natural in the Apache world, but I have spoken with our shaman. There have been attempts, in the long past of our people to provide guardians for children born like this, or to banish the evil in its nature. None have proved effective or in any way positive. Always life suffers. I wish I had better news for you both." He explained.

Dean rolled the baby close to his chest, his lips touched its temple but his eyes never left Crowhawk's. "Thanks for looking into it. Our own research turned up pretty much the same. The only thing we can do is to make this little guy's passing as quick and painless as possible." He let the tears fall. A long time ago Dean came to realize that battling his own emotions in an attempt to keep them hidden from others left him weak. It was one of the reasons he hated lying. It took too much energy. But there was nothing he wouldn't do for Sam.

Once Sam collected himself and joined Dean and Crowhawk in the fore-part of the trailer, the root had been steeping long enough to kill a man of over 200 lbs.

"Sam, you don't have to do this, you don't have to be here… please… think about it please… don't do this." Dean pleaded.

Sam held out his arms, his face wet and twisted with too many emotions to quantify, "He's mine." He hitched holding the infant close once Dean placed him into his arms.

Sam's lips touched the baby's forhead, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He sighed shakily, holding him tight while they exited the trailer and entered the heart of the wheel.

"It will be fast and easy," Tommy patted Sam's shoulder, "there will be no pain for him."

His throat was closed.

He couldn't speak, and so he nodded, kneeling at the altar where he set the gently kicking and squirming infant. The baby held Sam's eyes.

"Guys?" Dean stepped forward drawing their attention as he approached the altar. He slid his flask from the inner pocket of his jacket and opened it. "Anyone else need a little sumthin' sumthin'?" He pressed the opening to his tightly closed lips, then swept his sleeve across his mouth and handed it to Tommy.

"Yeah man… good idea." Tommy slugged a couple of hard chugs from the flask before passing it to Sam.

"It's okay Sam." Dean nodded watching his little brother swig back a couple gargantuan sized swallows as well before passing the flask back to Dean who tucked it into his pocket.

Seconds later Sam and Crowhawk lay unconscious on the ground.

OOooOO

Dean moved fast.

He raced to the trunk of the Impala, threw it open and after drawing out a 'floor cradle' from one of the WalMart bags, set the baby into it then stripped the infant of its blanket and its onesie, replacing them both with new Winnie The Pooh garments and blankets. From the inside of his jacket he pulled a bottle of plain water, gently easing the nipple into the little guy's eager mouth, then pulled his cell phone and dialed a number.

Cinching the phone between his ear and shoulder he moved the cooler to the edge of the trunk.

The other end of the call picked up. "Hey, you ready?" he asked.

"Yes." she replied.

Dean straightened up and turned away from the trunk, "Good me too." He nodded.

He breathed deep then flexed his fingers and sunk them, claw-like into the fabric of our reality.

With a quick pull and a careful slowing he smiled.

Kitsune stepped from behind the veil and threw her arms around him.

Dean grasped her close, kissing her tenderly.

"He's beautiful!"she grinned stroking the infants face, already a part of her was in love with him. After all he belonged to Sam and she loved him more than she loved life.

Dean grabbed the child into his arms and held him close, kissing him while his heart broke.

"His name is Neil. It means Champion." He grasped the Japanese Demi-god with a gentle hand behind her neck, "Whoever you leave him to, make sure it's someone who will raise him as one. Please." His voice cracked as he handed the child over to the woman.

She pulled the infant close, pressing her mouth to his head while Dean pulled a baby bag from the large WalMart bag he'd stuffed in the trunk earlier, "There's a few bottles, some onesies, some blankets, electric socket plugs for when he starts to crawl…" his voice broke.

He grasped the tiny and powerful woman at the neck and shoulder, "Kitsune…" he sniffed.

She nodded, "I love him Dean. You asked me once to protect him… he loved me so beautifully that it stole my heart. I will cherish anything of him that exists…" she curled the contented infant into her embrace, "and anyone that touches him or his will have me to deal with should they prove unworthy!" she promised.

Dean smiled in spite of his floes of tears, "Kitsune, have I told you lately that I love you?" he asked.

"You gave me Sam, that says it all." She smiled caressing his face with one hand while the other held the baby tight.

"Still," he leaned forward holding her close and pressing his lips to hers, "Thank you." He sniffed.

"There is a reason you are the first king of the gods." She nodded.

Behind her the veil shimmered, a half dozen shidhe and Cernunnos himself came forward.

Dean looked tearfully at the God of Fertility and Rebirth, the God that was just another incarnation of his own soul.

"Take her wherever she wants. Send no one to watch over her or the child." He instructed the fuzzy headed, stag antlered deity, "When she's ready she'll return to us. No one can ever know what came of the boy." He explained.

Cernunnos nodded, "As you wish."

"Leave me one of your potion masters." Dean ordered as Kitsune moved toward the veil.

He leaped to Kitsune taking one last opportunity to wrap the woman and child in his arms.

His lips pressed to the baby's forehead, "You name is Neil. It means Champion. Your father is a good man who loves you." His voice broke at the last as he fell to his knees and watched the demi-god disappear beyond the veil between worlds.

Long moments later, Mustardseed himself touched Dean gently on the shoulder.

"_My king?"_

Behind them, a squad of sidhe were working to put Sam and Crowhawk onto boulder-stools and position them carefully.

Dean nodded, "I'm alright." He moved back to the Impala's trunk and thought about his trip to the morgue yesterday. It wasn't heartbreaking enough to have simply seen how many children and infants lay dead and unclaimed in just this tiny little piece of the world. He couldn't let himself think about other parts of the world where it might be worse.

He could feel himself moving quickly through the corridors, through to the back of the refrigerator where the infants and newborns were stacked like cordwood.

One by one he searched through the bodies, looking for newborns until he found the perfect candidate. The toe tag read: Baby Boy Todd then told its date of birth and death. All within a few hours at most.

Dean wrapped the unfortunate infant into a blanket and set it as carefully as possible into the satchel he carried.

Outside in the parking lot he deposited the swaddled infant into the cooler they kept in the trunk, now full of fresh ice.

With a handkerchief in hand Dean cleaned the infants face, "I'm sorry… rest in peace baby boy Todd." He sniffed caressing the tiny lifeless face, "and thank you."

Shaking off the memory of yesterdays' early morning endeavor Dean held the dead infant close, now dressed in Neils' onesie, swaddled in his blanket he set the infant atop the pyre Crowhawk had prepared.

The sidhe, after making sure Sam and Crowhawk were in proper position looked askance at Dean.

"Neither of them will remember passing out?" he asked.

"_No. As you ordered, they will remember nothing but sitting." _Mustardseed smiled sadly.

Dean grasped the diminutive warriors shoulder and nodded, "Good thank you."

They came awake slowly while Dean layered the muslin swaddled corpse in salt while chanting Latin

He listened carefully, noting precisely when either man came awake and doing his level best to ensure that he played his part.

"God… if you're there, if you really exist at all, and if your minions really give any kind of a flying fuck about our piss poor pathetic species… then protect this soul. Grant it salvation in the knowledge that it was born to do your God's bidding, whatever that might be." He finished, and with a simple casting of a lit match book fell to his knees with floes of tears streaming from his eyes. Whatever he'd done. He'd one day have to live with, but as long as something of Sam was alive in this world, there was hope. Of that much Dean was certain.

OOooOO

End.

Please R&R

Thanks.

Sifi.


End file.
